The Price of the Plan
by Patricia de Lioncourt
Summary: For the hc-bingo. Severus Snape's return to Lord Voldemort's side, the farce of being loyal, was harder than he thought it would ever be.


**Title:** The Price of the Plan  
**Fandom**: Harry Potter  
**Prompt:** Wild Card—Using Fall from Grace  
**Medium:** fic  
**Wordcount**: ~1000  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings:** Spoilers for the HP books, I suppose…  
**Summary: **For the hc-bingo. Severus Snape's return to Lord Voldemort's side, the farce of being loyal, was harder than he thought it would ever be.

**Author's Note: **Okay, so this hit me in a flash, and I hope everyone enjoys it. Please review!

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**The Price of the Plan**

Severus Snape didn't like bowing. Bowing and scraping… the human race was above these things. But, when he arrived at Lord Voldemort's seat in Malfoy Manor, he bowed deep. The Dark Lord smiled, his lipless mouth spreading just like a snake about to consume a rat.

"Ah, Severus…" his wispy voice carried all over the large dining hall.

Severus didn't question why the long table had been temporarily removed, along with its matching chairs. He didn't question why Voldemort sat at the head of the room, in the largest, most ornate chair he could find. This was the biggest room of the house, its flooring done in marble. Its walls were of the finest oak and expertly carved. Voldemort, now that Snape had killed Albus Dumbledore, was an emperor, presiding over his growing empire.

The Death Eaters that had followed Severus into the room had only bowed in passing, instead taking their places standing on the left and right sides of Voldemort's self-made throne. Bellatrix, of course, was directly on his right. That wouldn't be so for long; Severus could see it in the dark light in his passing glance at the witch. From a spot beside his throne, Voldemort produced a seemingly fresh from the presses copy of The Daily Prophet. He turned it so that Snape could clearly see cover.

"A special edition," the Dark Lord said. "The Death of Dumbledore."

He was quoting the title of the article now. How had the Prophet gotten the story out so quickly? Dumbledore had only been dead an hour, two at most. Worse of all, Snape's stomach was churning to see the picture at the front. It was him. Specifically, it was him when he had turned to confront Potter.

Coward, the boy had called him. Again, the stupidity he could have only inherited from his father shined before any other quality. Stupid, stupid boy.

"It's a spirited piece," Voldemort said, flipping the paper back around to face him. "Says you _cruelly_ killed the defenseless Dumbledore while the Boy Who Lived watched just as helplessly. Tell me now, where is Draco?"

"Outside, m'lord. The boy is outside. He's… composing himself," Snape answered.

"He shall have to be punished."

Bellatrix, despite having an actual, blood connection to the boy, smiled broadly. Snape could almost feel Narcissa cringing from somewhere else in the manor.

"M'lord, I simply stole the opportunity. I felt the boy too slow in his execution, but I do assure you… he was going to _execute_."

"Is that so, Severus?"

Snape nodded once. Voldemort rested back in his seat. Smiling, he said, "Very well. The boy will be spared. But only because the Death Eater who has proven the _most_ loyal to me wishes it to be so. Consider this your reward, Severus. Now go. You have served me enough this night."

Snape rose, thanking Voldemort and not missing the crestfallen look on Bellatrix's face. He turned, but before he could step away, the Dark Lord stopped him.

"And here. Another gift," he said, handing over the special edition of the paper.

Another word of thanks, and Snape allowed himself to be led to a guest room in the manor. Once alone, he sunk down to the bed, the weight of the world crushing him slowly. He lifted the paper, reading more of the article. And quickly wishing he hadn't. It was a tormenting piece for an already tormented man. It went on to talk about how devastating it was for not only Potter but for the rest of the Hogwarts staff that Snape would be the one to betray Dumbledore. Somehow, within these two hours, the writer of the article had taken the time to get a quote from McGonagall.

"Horrible, horrible thing, that Severus should return to He Who Must Not Be Named. After Dumbledore had trusted him, vouched for him, taken him in to the school. Wretched thing."

Snape all but threw the paper to the side. He buried his face in his hands. Now, all of the wizarding world would know him for one thing and one thing only: the murderer of Albus Dumbledore.

But he had known the price. He had discussed all of this with Dumbledore. Had even begged the Headmaster to change his mind, had blatantly told the old man that he didn't want to do this. But he had made the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa, at Dumbledore's request. This all had to seem real, seem genuine. That way, Voldemort would never suspect that he had a spy in the ranks, in his highest ranks at that. And Dumbledore was spared a gruesomely painful death for one that took only a moment.

But the man that Severus Snape had tried to become—for himself, for Dumbledore, for _her_—was gone. Destroyed. And he feared he could never expose the truth. He would die a dishonored traitor. And that was the price he would pay.

#

_Years later…_

"Are you sure about this, Mr. Potter?" the portrait hanger asked, poised to remove his hands from the carved, gold-painted frame.

Harry crossed his arms, grinning ear-to-ear. "You're asking the man who named one of his sons after him? Yeah, I'm pretty sure, thanks."

The portrait hanger, nodded, letting go and stepping back until he was shoulder-to-shoulder with the hero of the Second War with Voldemort.

"It's a nice picture. He looks a bit young, though. Younger than he was when he died," the man noted.

"That's because it's an older portrait. He's only in his early twenties here," Harry responded.

"Huh? Where did you get it?"

Harry smiled, and approached the smiling portrait of former Headmaster Severus Snape. He tapped the bottom, left-hand corner of the frame. The portrait hanger approached, bending and squinting to read the name. When he had, his eyes widened.

"Lily Potter? But, I thought… I thought you said…"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe Mum forgave him, in the end. And why not? We all did. Because he deserved it."

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**End Notes:** Maybe the ending is a little AU, but I wanted some comfort to go with his hurt. After all, Snape got a lot of hurt in canon, so he really did deserve a little niceness.


End file.
